


Friends

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [44]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, POV Daphne Chanders, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daphne and Brian find themselves at similar crossroads and spend an evening talking it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of many fics I've been working on that focuses on Daphne and Brian's growing friendship. I was inspired to write it as I'm increasingly interested in exploring Justin and Brian's relationships outside of each other (i.e. friends and family), although theirs will always remain the core focus of this series :) 
> 
> In terms of continuity, this story refers to events related in _She's Gone_ and _Pseudo-Husbands_ and also sets some precedent for _Tricks du Jour_. Feedback is, as always, very much appreciated - I hope you enjoy it!

_These would normally be the makings for an excellent night,_ Daphne thinks, as she tunes in to the fiery music flooding through the club, which is filled with dim, yet warm, light. This is her favourite club, in fact, and yet her evening is utter shit so far. The drink in her hand is disgusting and her company is even less appealing.

Nights out with her girlfriend Chelsea used to be fun, but lately, they've been nothing short of nightmarish. Tonight is no exception - in fact, it may be the worst night Daphne has shared out with Chelsea _ever_. She’s giving new meaning to the term ‘on edge’, when suddenly an arm slips around her waist and a silky voice sounds in her ear: “Daphne Chanders. How long has it been?”

Daphne grins. She’s saved! Brian is right on time and right on script. Well, not right on script, but she had expected him to dial up the flirting by a few notches. She turns to face him and replies, “Too long.”

It’s only been a few weeks, actually, but Chelsea and her creepy little friend don’t need to know that. Daphne hugs Brian and whispers in his ear, “Thank you.”

She tries not to laugh when his hands slip to the small of her back. He’s such a sleaze, but at least he’s not as sleazy as Chelsea’s friend. Ugh.

 _He might be the one,_ Chelsea claimed exuberantly at the start of this godawful evening. Daphne isn’t even sure she believes in ‘the one’, but if she did, it certainly wouldn’t be this guy. What’s his name, anyway? Steve? Sam? Sleazeball? She can’t remember because he’s so overwhelmingly creepy, that all she can think of is how all evening long, he's been putting his hands on her and hovering in her personal space. Gross.

It was once Justin who would come to her rescue at times like these, but Justin’s in New York. Thankfully, Brian has been visiting to oversee annual reviews at Kinnetik’s Pittsburgh office, and he more than happily agreed to show up and give her an out. Very happily, actually. Suspiciously happily. Daphne had texted him, asking if there was any way he could come to her rescue, and Brian was practically there in a heartbeat. She’ll have to investigate that, just as soon as they get out of here.

She nudges Brian and he releases her from their indulgently long hug, but keeps an arm hooked around her as she turns back to Chelsea and Sleazeball. Chelsea is silently admiring Brian, with a faint flush rising in her cheeks and one brow arched in appreciation. Sleazeball, on the other hand, does not look impressed. He’s staring at Brian’s arm, fitted snugly around Daphne’s shoulders, with an expression of distinct distaste. Daphne smiles up at Brian and interlocks her fingers through his, running her thumb over the back of his hand. “Guys, this is Brian.”

Sleazeball frowns, looking every bit like a sulky four-year-old whose favourite toy has been taken away from him. “How do you two know each other?”

Daphne struggles not to burst out laughing as Brian looks her up and down, licks his lips slightly with a quick flash of his tongue, and purrs, “We go way back.”

"We do," she confirms, smirking at Brian. He’s actually better at this than Justin is – he’s giving her the most heated of looks and infusing every single word with innuendo, which will make short work of Daphne’s present dilemma. Daphne can feel Chelsea watching her, all curious, but she ignores this. Of course, Chelsea doesn’t remember Brian, of _Justin and Brian,_ who Daphne must have mentioned a thousand times over throughout the course of their friendship. Well, so-called ‘friendship’. Daphne is developing an acute awareness that Chelsea is not really much of a friend. Hence, this farcical matchmaking exercise with this total buffoon, who is now scowling at Brian.

"You look utterly divine," Brian says in her ear, just loudly enough so that Chelsea and Sleazeball are sure to hear it. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"She has one," Sleazeball mutters, signalling the drink Daphne is holding. She’s taken precisely one sip of it - he insisted on ordering for her (gross!), bragging that he knew exactly what she would like (even grosser!). Of course, he was way off the mark.

Daphne makes a distinct point of setting it aside. She turns to Brian, grabs his tie, and says in her most seductive voice, “There are drinks at your place, right?”

It takes every ounce of willpower that she possesses not to break down and laugh. Brian looks like he’s about to crack up, too, so she bids Chelsea a quick goodbye and then leads Brian out of the nightclub. She doesn’t have to worry about Chelsea following to tell her off for being so rude – Chelsea was not being at all subtle in her appreciation of Brian, and no doubt approves of Daphne levelling up from Sleazeball to a more attractive and more charming specimen.

Outside, they dissolve into fits of laughter. Daphne shoves Brian lightly and scolds, “You are such a perv!”

“You’re one to talk,” he teases, wrapping his arm around her in a much less suggestive fashion. “Truth be told, I’m quite proud.”

“Thanks,” she laughs. “And thanks for showing up, too. I’d normally invent a medical emergency, but Chelsea works at the hospital with me. She knows a fake code when she sees one.”

“Any time,” Brian says. He pauses, then adds somewhat darkly, “It’s not like I had any place better to be.”

Daphne considers that comment very worthy of investigation, but first things first: “Have you eaten? I was supposed to have dinner with them, although I don’t know how I would have sustained an appetite.”

Brian snorts. “I haven’t, actually.”

“How about that Italian place that Justin likes? It’s not far from here.” Deciding to do some quick fishing, Daphne adds, “Unless you have somewhere else to be…”

He smiles wanly. “I most certainly don’t.”

Yep, this is all _definitely_ worthy of investigation. Daphne decides to let it be, for now – she can suss out what’s afoot over dinner. For now, she leans into Brian’s embrace as they continue walking together in silence.

*

“So,” Brian says, raising his eyebrows at Daphne inquisitively, “What was your friend thinking, setting you up with that guy?”

“Apparently he might just be ‘the one’,” Daphne says drily, taking a much-needed sip of her drink. A drink she was allowed to choose herself, no less! Her evening is definitely looking up.

Brian scoffs. “‘The one’.”

Daphne laughs softly. “Yeah, Chelsea’s obsessed with all of that stuff. ‘The one’, soul mates, destiny… she’s just gotten engaged and I’m pretty sure she won’t rest until I am, too.”

Wrinkling his nose, Brian asks, “Do you want to be engaged?”

“Um, how do I put this delicately…?” Daphne drums her fingers on the tablecloth as she mulls it over. “Hell no? ‘Hell no’ is about as delicate as I can get with this.”

“Is Chelsea aware of this?” He keeps saying her name in the most sour tone possible; Daphne is most pleased by this. It’s exactly like hearing her own inner monologue, which has been growing increasingly acerbic towards Chelsea of late.

“Chelsea isn’t aware of anything beyond that ring on her finger,” Daphne mutters. “I mean, I’ve mentioned you and Justin to her about a million times, and yet she didn’t bat an eyelid when I introduced you! I’ve figured out recently that if it doesn’t directly affect her, she really doesn’t give a shit.”

Brian leans in, looking increasingly intrigued. “What do you think she’d say if you told her you don’t intend to get married?”

“I think she’d blow a fucking gasket,” Daphne laughs, even though it’s not all that funny. Chelsea is supposed to be one of her closest friends, but aren’t close friends meant to support you and accept you? That’s what Justin does. That’s what Brian does. That’s what Grace does. Why is it so goddamned difficult for Chelsea? Daphne sighs and adds with resignation, “She has trouble seeing anyone’s perspective beyond her own. Jeez, you should have been there when she met Justin - they very nearly bit each other’s heads off. I can’t even remember over what, I just remember instantly deciding never to let them mingle again. They’re both way too stubborn and hotheaded.”

“I don’t remember him mentioning anything,” Brian says, smiling at the waitress as she brings over their meals. As he thanks her, Daphne cringes. She’d forgotten exactly _when_ Justin and Chelsea were introduced.

Very apologetically, she admits, “It was when he was with Ian.”

Brian smirks. “Oh.”

Beyond his monosyllabic response, he doesn’t seem bothered. Daphne smiles. “That was the silver lining, actually. I’d been bitching at him for weeks about what an unsufferable little twerp Ian was, and Justin was getting really pissy with me over it. I’d try to keep my mouth shut, but it was ridiculously hard. Then after he met Chelsea, he launched into this full-on rant about how awful she was, so we struck up a deal: either we both keep our mouths shut, or we’re both allowed to complain. It worked out quite nicely.”

“Tell me more about this complaining you speak of,” Brian says, grinning devilishly.

Daphne laughs. “I’m sure we’ve covered the majority of it. Suffice it to say, I was so glad when Justin came to his senses and ditched that loser. Gladder still, when he decided to get you back.”

Brian’s grin softens into a gentle smile. “I’ve heard you had something to do with that.”

Daphne shrugs. “I’ve discovered through the years that, from time to time, Justin needs a little push. Or a shove. I was happy to provide it.”

Brian’s appreciative smile is only visible for a moment before he picks up his glass and takes a drink - a suspiciously long drink, in fact. Daphne bides her time, knowing he’ll reveal all soon enough. In the meantime, she enjoys her food and their semi-comfortable silence.

“So,” Brian finally says, “What are you going to do? If she can’t see your point of view, if she can’t accept how you want to live your life…”

Daphne meets his gaze, nodding along. He takes another drink, then continues, “Isn’t that why you pulled away from your family?”

“It is,” she agrees. “I suppose it’s harder with Chelsea. She was supposed to be one of my closest friends… it’s harder, for some reason, to give her up.”

It’s then that Daphne’s suspicions are confirmed. Something flickers over Brian’s face - it’s a flash of recognition, paired with regret. Daphne isn’t at all surprised to discover they’ve been talking in code this entire time, nor is she disappointed. She had anticipated this when Brian started quizzing her - that maybe he was seeking out her perspective because he’s dealing with something comparable. She’s more touched, than anything, that he would trust her with this. Worried, too, because her issues with Chelsea are horrible to contend with. For months now, Daphne has felt dragged down with guilt and resentment. She saw that reflected in that instantaneous flash of emotion that Brian displayed moments ago.

She reaches across the table and touches Brian’s hand lightly. He smiles slightly at the momentary touch. Daphne returns it, then says gently, “How are things with Michael?”

Brian looks at her for a while. His gaze is guarded, but Daphne senses some semblance of admiration peeking through the fortress walls. She smiles at him, then returns to her dinner, aware that Brian may take some time to offer a response. Eventually, he sighs and says, “There are parts of this that can’t go back to Justin.”

Daphne stops to consider this. “Such as?”

“It will soon become clear,” Brian mutters, his face darkening. “I’m going to tell him most of it, but… there are some things he’s better off not hearing, I think.”

“Are we talking, like… what Michael said about Justin when he’d just left to be with Ian?” Daphne cannot and absolutely will not repeat what was said that day. She heard the story from Justin months later, when he tearfully admitted to forcing Brian to ‘fess up and tell the truth. _I should never have asked,_ Justin admitted with no small amount of regret. _How can I ever face Michael again? I don’t think I’ll ever get over what he said._

Of course, Justin did get over it and has managed to face Michael since. Daphne, on the other hand, still struggles with it. It’s plainly evident that Brian is similarly torn. He’s gone pale since she asked about it, and now his lips are drawing into a thin, tight line. He swallows and says tightly, “Nothing that terrible. But it’s also nothing that Justin deserves to hear.”

He softens somewhat and touches her hand. “Look, I’m not going to make you keep secrets from him. I’ll let you be the judge. I just don’t think I can repeat what was said… so if Justin’s going to hear it, it’ll have to be from you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Daphne agrees, thinking that that seems fair. “So what happened?”

Brian rolls his eyes, sighs, and begins to rant. Apparently, his evening began at Ben and Michael’s, where they were supposed to be having dinner. Unfortunately, they didn’t even get through the first round of drinks before things deteriorated. Tersely, Brian explains, “Mikey handed me a bundle of pamphlets for houses in their area and started chirping about how much Justin would love them.”

At that, Daphne scoffs. “Like Justin wants anything to do with that suburban nightmare schtick.”

Brian’s face lights up appreciatively. He raises his glass and clinks it against hers, then they each take a generous drink. After signalling the waitress for a refill, Brian continues, “I told him that we’re happy with the place we have. And he _waves his hand at me,_ and says, ‘Sure, for now!’. Of course, the Professor tried to divert us to more zen subject matters, but Mikey wasn’t having any of it. Neither was I. Neither was Hunter, actually… he kept on and on at Mikey about how cool our apartment is, which didn’t help one bit.”

“Shit,” Daphne laughs. “That sounds bad.”

“Oh, it was.” Brian takes his refilled glass and downs about half of it. “So Mikey turns to Hunter and says, ‘That’s not the kind of place you end up, it’s only temporary’. To which I said…”

He trails off, looking vaguely guilty. Daphne nudges his leg under the table. “Go on.”

With an edge of amusement, Brian admits, “To which I said, ‘What are you, a fucking psychic, now?’.”

“And that didn’t go down well, huh?”

He grins sheepishly. “Uh, no. It didn’t. Well, Hunter found it quite amusing, but Mikey sure didn’t. So Ben hauled Hunter out of there before he could stir any more shit, and that left Mikey to go off his fucking face about… well, everything.”

Daphne listens to Brian reiterate the flow of accusations and blanches. Brian doesn’t bother to fill her in on his side of the conversation, but Daphne doesn’t mind - she knows him well enough to fill in the blanks.

“He started complaining about how we can’t expect to stay away forever, and how our ‘real home’ is here. Then he went all in, accusing Justin of being selfish in ‘dragging’ me to New York, and how I didn’t have to sacrifice my life to make Justin happy. Then it was just this ridiculous fucking slew of attacks - how selfish we’re being, how selfish Justin is, how we can’t expect to have a ‘real life’ in New York, how my ‘real family’ is here. How I’m abandoning people who have stood by me for years in favour of someone who has ‘a prolonged history of cutting and running’. I believe the phrase ‘once a cheater, always a cheater’ popped up.”

Anger surges through Daphne, accompanied by a red-hot instinct to defend Justin. Even though she remains carefully silent, Brian seems to pick up on it. He places his hand atop hers and continues, “There was a lot of other shit said, but in the end, I told him to fuck off and I got the hell out of there. Then you texted me and… well, you know the rest.”

Daphne sucks in a deep breath. As she exhales, she turns her hand over and clasps Brian’s. He squeezes hers lightly and says bitterly, “So, in summation: he’s a presumptuous, judgmental asshole, and I don’t really want anything to do with him.”

“At all?”

Brian stares into space for a spell, then murmurs, “For now. He’s not exactly someone who can be easily extricated from my life.”

“He deserves it,” Daphne blurts out. Immediately, she regrets it. Blushing, she says, “Sorry. I know he’s your best friend.”

Smiling humourlessly, Brian retorts, “I’m not so sure. It’s been a very long while since we’ve felt like ‘best friends’, let alone…”

He grimaces. “... _fuck._ Let alone friends.”

Wondering what brought them to this point, Daphne inquires, “What exactly happened?”

Brian shrugs. “What happened with you and Chelsea?”

Since she’s been angsting over this for such a long time now, Daphne knows this verse by heart. Only she hasn’t voiced it, yet - she can’t talk behind Chelsea’s back to Grace, and there’s always stuff she’d rather be talking about with Justin, so they haven’t gotten around to discussing it so far. It’s difficult, but she’s grateful nonetheless that Brian has brought it up.

Daphne rests her chin in her hand and reflects, “We’ve been headed in different directions for a long time. She wants a husband and babies, I want to focus on my career. She favours a lot of very idealistic and romantic philosophies, whereas I just can’t identify with that. That’s the heart of it - we’re different at our core, and now we’re headed in totally different directions. Maybe if she tried to understand me, then there might be something to work with… but she doesn’t. I don’t think she even has the capacity for it. So that’s about that, isn’t it? We’re different people and she can’t accept that. So I don’t think that there’s anything left to salvage.”

“Maybe,” Brian laughs emptily, “We should introduce Mikey and Chelsea. It seems that they have a lot in common.”

Daphne gives his hand another squeeze. She expects she will be stating the obvious, but she goes ahead and does so anyway, feeling that Brian deserves to hear this: “You and Justin deserve better than that crap.”

Brian nods. “I told him exactly that. Justin, especially. He never dragged me to New York… I wanted to be there with him. I didn’t want to lose him, or miss out on what he was becoming there.”

Daphne grins. They’ve discussed this many times previously - how Justin became more _Justin_ in New York, how his ambition and talent evolved, and how he seemed to be truly happy there, happier than he’d ever been before.

“As for the cheating,” Brian says, rolling his eyes, “Why the fuck is that being brought up _now?_ It wasn’t even any of Mikey’s business to begin with. The fucking nerve of him, bringing it up seven years after the fact. And he knows where I stand with all of that - he knows that I never really blamed Justin for it, and he knows Justin has made up for it in droves. So what the fuck is his problem?”

“I’m guessing he disagrees with that,” Daphne posits. “Maybe he doesn’t think that Justin can ever really make up for it.”

Brian rolls his eyes yet again. “It wouldn’t surprise me. But what the fuck does it have to do with him?”

Daphne shrugs and suggests, “I guess he's trying to protect you.”

“I don't need protecting,” Brian mutters. “As for my ‘real family’... they’re not here, not anymore. They haven’t been for years.”

Unlike Michael, Daphne is aware that Brian’s ‘real family’ primarily comprises Justin and Gus. That is, until Brian adds thoughtfully, “That’s not to say there aren’t people here who matter - present company certainly included.”

Blushing, Daphne smiles at him. “And don’t forget Jen and Molly. They adore you.”

“And Deb,” Brian adds quickly. “And Theodore, even Honeycutt…”

“What about Michael? Does he make the list?”

“I want him to," Brian muses quietly. “Or, at least, I used to.”

Something suddenly occurs to Daphne. She leans in and asks, “Is it kind of like… he’s there in this nostalgic sense?”

Brian frowns, and she clarifies, “One of the reasons I haven’t distanced myself from Chelsea yet is that there’s so much history there. We went to college together, we were so crazy close during all of that. There are all these amazing memories that I would never dare to let go of, and somehow, she’s become bundled up in all of that. I still consider her a good friend, but really, if I’m being honest with myself… it’s only in retrospect. There’s very little between us presently that is worth staying around for... it’s all in the past.”

She looks to Brian searchingly, praying that she hasn’t just sounded like an insane person. Apparently not. He smiles, somewhat sadly, and agrees, “That’s exactly what it is.”

With an increasingly heavy heart, Daphne confesses, “I don’t think friendships can survive on vestiges of nostalgia alone.”

“They can’t.” His confirmation is resigned and weary, making a perfect match for how Daphne feels. She picks up her glass and downs the remainder of her drink in one go.

“I’ve known what I need to do for a while now,” Daphne says quietly. “I can’t have another night like tonight, where she forces some random guy on me and tries to play Cupid so that we can wander off into the sunset together with our husbands and strollers. It’s just not right for me. But that’s the thing, is that Chelsea doesn’t know _me._ She sees some version of who she expects me to be, and that’s it. Who I really am doesn’t matter to her.”

“So what are you going to do?”

It takes a moment for Daphne to gather the courage to share the action plan she’s been devising for months. “Back away. Create some space between us. Maybe, if she can’t deal with that, maybe I’ll tell her what’s what. I probably should do that, theoretically speaking, but in practice… Chelsea is horrible with confrontation. Plus, we have to work together, we have all these mutual friends… it would be way too destructive.”

“I think if I did that, it would spur an all-out war.” Brian shakes his head. “Mikey isn’t good with reality checks.”

“I’ve picked up on that,” Daphne notes. “And yet, he seems very focused on what’s ‘real’ - your ‘real family, ‘real home’, ‘real life’...”

She grins as Brian bursts out laughing. “He sure is a fan of that word, he just doesn’t care much to examine what it means.”

Daphne pats Brian’s hand, taking a moment to admire the wedding band shining on his ring finger. _That’s real,_ she thinks, filled with warmth as she recalls Justin’s giddy phone call from a few months back, where he announced that they were wearing the rings full-time. Then again, seeing the evidence of their commitment presented plainly on Brian’s hand reminds her of how complicated his situation is.

Reluctantly, she acknowledges this. “Your situation is way more tricky than mine - it’s not just mutual friends and a shared working environment, it’s your entire family. He’s technically one of your co-parents, right?”

“Right.” Brian’s mouth twists unhappily.

Daphne offers him a reassuring smile. “At least you have New York. Maybe some time and space will serve the two of you well… there’s no telling what might happen. Maybe Michael will come to terms with it and you’ll figure out a way to be close again.”

“Maybe.” Brian smiles back at her, looking slightly less wretched. He signals the waitress again, who swings by immediately with more drinks. Once she’s gone, he raises his glass and Daphne does the same. “In the meantime… here’s to better friends.”

Daphne beams at him and touches her glass to his. “To better friends.”

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to follow this up soon with another work that explores these same themes at a later stage. I realise that this story doesn't necessarily paint Michael in the most positive light, but keep in mind that it is told from Daphne's POV and she's only hearing Brian's side of the story. There are other issues to be explored here, which I will look forward to sharing in the follow-up.


End file.
